


'How the time escapes me...'

by marmolady



Series: Beyond Vaanu: Endless Ending [21]
Category: Endless Summer (Visual Novel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 00:40:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28501611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marmolady/pseuds/marmolady
Summary: The year 2035 sees Nicolas Montoya living in a much-changed San Trobida, but while his family thrives, memories of their past, and of the years raising his beloved Estela, remain close to the surface.
Relationships: Estela Montoya/Main Character (Endless Summer)
Series: Beyond Vaanu: Endless Ending [21]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1906357
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	'How the time escapes me...'

**Author's Note:**

> My great, big Tio Nicolas fic. It's been in progress for a while, and was one of my favourite pieces I worked on last year. Montoya family feels are, apparently, my thing right now.

_2035_

__

Nicolas Montoya waited at a bus stop, just around the bend from his Las Rocas home. This was new. Back when Estela was a little girl, many, many years ago, he or his sister had picked her up directly from school, not willing to leave her to the mercy of a dangerous world. Young Liv Andromeda Montoya was growing up in a much-changed San Trobida, and her school among the most progressive in the country. It was a fair bus ride from the school in Las Selvas, but Liv had been eager to pay her Tio Abuelo a visit, and it meant her mothers got a little more of the afternoon to themselves.

A small young adolescent girl hopped off the bus, her dark hair-- dark save for a single thick blonde streak-- cropped short into a pixie cut, her knees and lower legs sporting various scrapes and bruises. Liv was twelve now, still so much like her Mama Estela in both appearance and her fierce heart; but more and more, Nicolas could see how starkly _different_ she was. A life of security had allowed her to flourish, her youthful effervescence untempered. As it should be.

“Hiya, Tio Nicolas!” Liv cried, her backpack bouncing as she bounded over from the bus stop and went in for a rather forceful hug.

“Are you trying to have me over?”

Liv stuck out her tongue. “Sorry, I didn’t realise you were _that_ old and fragile….”

“Oh, she’s getting a mouth on her.” Nicolas hugged Liv tight. He adored that girl, and had done from the moment he’d laid eyes on her. Estela, as a child, had longed to be a mother, but that dream had been all but extinguished by the cruelties the world had heaped upon her. Liv was the sunshine after a storm, and to Nicolas she had brought profound peace.

He walked her home, taking the time to catch up.

“Do you have any homework, _mija?_ ”

“Mmm… not really. I’ve got like an ongoing researchy thing, but it’s not due for ages. I haven’t picked my subject yet.”

“What class is that for?”

“It’s for Nature Studies. I’ve got to research a threatened species that’s native to San Trobida, and write about what things we can do to help it. I’m not sure yet if I’m going to do a monkey or a tapir. It would be pretty cool to do an animal that I might be able to go and actually see in the forest. What do you think?”

“I think that would be a very good excuse for some family expeditions into the national park. One of the reasons we had it protected was so it could be used to educate the young people about nature.”

“Yep! That’s what Mama Estela said.” Liv’s mother had a great deal of pride in the national park. There had been some amount of involvement, of which Liv had very limited understanding, but Mama Estela and Uncle Aleister had done _something_ that had helped fund the creation of the park. Liv was glad of it; it was one of the places where she most liked to spend time with her mothers and extended family.

“Well, Livita, it depends how much of a challenge you want. The tapir is very hard to see, but we could help you find some tracks. The howler monkeys are most easy to find, because can just follow the direction your headache is coming from. Noisy _idiotas._ But we used to occasionally see the tamarins as well-- the yellow-crested variety. I’m thinking it must be the most endangered monkey we have; they were always mostly found in a small part of the Santa Juana forest, one of the areas that has been most badly damaged.”

“Yeah, I read about that one. Do you think we could actually find some?”

“I wouldn’t want to get your hopes up. But perhaps a good weekend’s camping in the forest will give you some good inspiration, help you choose. At worst, we’ll have an adventure, and enjoy some good company. You know how funny it can be to watch your Mama Taylor try to cook over a campfire.”

Liv laughed. “Sounds like the best fun doing school work I’ll ever have!”

After the trials he’d had in raising his niece, ‘fun’ was about what Nicolas deserved at this point. For all his regrets, he knew his best efforts for Estela had paid off-- that Liv was here now, bright and happy, was a sign that he must have gotten _something_ right along the way.

_1996_

The door closed behind Olivia, and Nicolas was left literally holding the baby. What he was supposed to _do_ with the infant-- he’d only laid eyes on her for the first time a couple of hours ago-- he had little clue. A run to the supermarket to pick up some diapers shouldn’t take Olivia too long… he hoped.

The baby pulled a face, as if she was no more sure about this situation than her frankly terrified uncle. His sister could _at least_ have left an instruction manual for him.

“What’s the matter with you; wind? Or is that just what your face looks like? _D_ _í_ _os,_ you look like you’re sucking a lemon.”

She was endearing, though, that baby. ‘Estela’, Olivia had named her. For the stars she’d so often gaze upon as a family, up on that old hill. The name was a tribute to Nicolas’ and Olivia’s late father. It was all in the past now; with Olivia newly arrived in San Trobida with her sour-faced accident in tow, that old family life in Colombia was over.

The news that Olivia had fallen pregnant had been a bolt from the blue, and even before Estela was born, Nicolas knew that she was going to change his life profoundly. There had been no doubt; his sister and niece would stay with him. Olivia had been very wishy-washy about the situation with the father, other than that he’d no intention of sticking around to raise the baby. So soon after the untimely death of his own father, a warm, giving paternal figure, the idea of such indifference was sickening to Nicolas. What was left of Olivia’s _family_ , though, wouldn’t desert her. Not in a million years.

Baby Estela began to grumble, her scowl becoming ever more pronounced. The grumbles became indignant cries.

_Well, what the fuck am I supposed to do with this?_

Nicolas bounced the infant gently, settling into a rhythm that seemed to appease her. “There. A bit of bouncing and suddenly the world isn’t so terrible.”

Estela stared up at him, big, dark eyes shining.

“What?”

The baby’s features eased into a small smile, growing wider as Nicolas pulled a face of incredulity.

“Oh, _I’m_ what’s funny? Between you and me, I don’t know a whole lot about babies. But, then, _mija,_ I suspect you don’t know a whole lot about uncles, so maybe we are on equal footing.”

Estela burbled, waving around a tiny fist. Nicolas sighed with a smile. He was out of his element, no doubt on a path to one mistake after another. But something inside him flared up as he held his sister’s precious baby daughter; he’d give her the world if he could.

“That’s right, Estelita. We’ll get by just fine. We’ll work it out together, shall we?”

_2002_

In the river flow out to the sea, an energetic six-year-old girl splashed and flailed, her face the very picture of youthful exuberance.

“’Stel! Not too deep! The water is moving fast out there!” Olivia called out from he bank, noticing before Nicolas did that their little charge was drifting further from the shallows.

Nicolas hooked Estela by her ankle, and in one easy motion, swept her in a wide circle until she was safely back by the shore. The child shrieked with laughter, totally at ease to the point that she might as well be a ragdoll in her uncle’s hands. She’d already learned that this world could be a very frightening place, but to her, Tio Nicolas was security.

“Come here, _mija!_ You wriggly fish!” He hauled her up onto his back, her small arms hanging onto his shoulders.

“Faster, Tio!”

“I’m swimming _up_ the river, _bribona;_ I would like to see you go any faster!”

Little Estela held on tight, ever trusting, as her uncle took her out to a slower section of the river, sheltered from the wind by rocky cliffs.

“Can I… can I jump in?”

Nicolas looked up at the rocky ledge, then at his niece’s eager face. She must have seen other kids jumping from the rocks when she’d been playing at the shore many times before.

“All the way up there? You’re sure? It’s high, Estelita.”

Estela looked up the rock-face in wonder. Surely, it had to look daunting to her. Perhaps that was the draw. She had always been one to test her limits at every opportunity-- oftentimes at the expense of her mother’s shredded nerves.

“Tio, you can show me how?”

Nicolas humphed. “Do you think I would let you climb up there on your own? Pah!”

Together, they scaled the cliff, Nicolas pointing out hand-holds and offering his frame to grab onto for balance, but letting Estela climb her own mountain. When she reached the top, she was brimming with self-satisfaction.

“ _Mami!_ ” Estela hollered, waving her arms around wildly. “Mami, look, I’m up here!”

“I can see!” Olivia called back. Nicolas knew he wasn’t mistaking the angry flash of her eyes in his direction, but to Estela she as all smiles. “Just you be careful up there; it’s a long way down!”

“I know! I’m gonna jump, Mami!”

“Don’t worry, Livita; I’ve got her.”

Estela had no fear. Not when Nicolas was with her. It couldn’t last… he knew it couldn’t last.The shadows of their world had already crept into Estela’s consciousness; she’d felt the stifling fear thick in the air, seen death with her own two eyes. But then it was over, and what was left was the safety of her family, never wavering. The time would come soon, Nicolas was certain, that it wouldn’t be enough. The naivete of a child was not unbreakable.

The little girl reached for her uncle’s hand as she made her way towards the edge. “It’s a little bit slippy,” she observed. “I don’t wanna _fall_ , I wanna _jump._ ”

At the expectant look Estela gave him, Nicolas could do naught but give in. A helping hand would keep her safer… and if he let Estela slip and bash her head on the rocks, Olivia would be on the warpath-- as if there wasn’t enough of that in their lives. “So, what? You want me to throw you?”

If the ear-to-ear grin and excited squeal wasn’t a resounding ‘yes’, nothing was.

“Oh, _fine!_ Make sure you scream nice and loud, give your Mami a good scare.”

Estela giggled, and looked up adoringly at Nicolas as he put his big hands around her chest, ready to launch her into the water below.

He let her go, flinging her safely away from the rocks as she screamed blue murder. And then Estela burst to the surface, spluttering water and laughing fit to burst.

“Nicolas!”

But he just laughed.

_Let her be invincible, for now. It will be gone soon enough._

_2004_

The door creaked open.

“T-tio Nicolas?”

“ _Estela!”_

The small child limped into the front room, shaking. Her front and hands were splattered with blood, and her arm soaked. To Nicolas’ horror, he could see the jagged edge of a broken forearm bone protruding through the wound. Her entire face was puffy with bumps, bruises and tears; her breath ragged. Still, Estela stood there staunchly.

“Tio, I-I need help. Th-they broke m-my arm,” she said. Even as her little voice wavered, she continued to look up at her uncle, beseeching. “You can fix me before Mom comes home, right?”

Nicolas’ heart sank down between his toes. _Oh, Estelita._

“Estela… you know I can’t do that, _mija._ I’ll tell your mother to meet us at the hospital.”

And it was that which finally made the little child’s face crumple. She sobbed, the movements no doubt inflicting fresh waves of pain and making her cry all the harder. Rage licked through Nicolas’ body; pure hatred for the bastard general, for the poison that had spread so inescapably that his innocent little girl had been made a victim. He swallowed the anger, for he had to… he always had to. As Estela began hyperventilating, he clasped her good hand in both of his, feeling the violent shakes of her battered body.

“I need you to listen to me, _cari_ _ň_ _a._ Look at me… that’s it.” Those big dark eyes were swimming with tears, so puffed up and bruised that Nicolas could barely see the niece he adored so. But even in her panic, there was the trust. “That’s it, _mi coraz_ _ó_ _n._ Steady, steady. I want you to breathe with me. Can you do that? Nice and slow. In… and out.”

Estela’s breath shuddered, but slowed, becoming deeper as she obediently followed her uncle’s example. For several minutes, Nicolas eased her back to a place of calm, never letting go of her hand.

“Mami’s gonna be really sad, isn’t she?” the child finally whimpered. “It’s all my fault….”

“No. It’s not your fault. You believe me, yes? You know I would tell you only the truth.”

Estela bit her lip, but nodded gingerly.

“But, yes. She will be sad.” Nicolas sighed heavily. Oh, she would be sad. Heartbroken. “She’ll feel better to know you’re safe now. When we received calls from the school, it was very frightening. It’s passed. Your Mami will want to be there for you; help you feel better. Because she loves you. Do you understand, _mija?”_

Again, she nodded, though Nicolas could see the doubt in her eyes. Just because he wasn’t lying, didn’t mean he was _right._

“I need you to be brave again. I need to leave you, just for a few minutes. I’ll find you something to use as a sling for your arm until we can get it properly bandaged-- and I’m sure I can find you something sweet as well. What I need you to do, is to keep up this good deep breathing. Nice and slow.”

“Okay, Tio. Thank you.”

Nicolas hastily gathered everything he needed to properly tend to the child, all the while cursing himself. He should have done _more._ Olivia had been resistant, but it could not be clearer to him that Estela needed to be able to defend herself. Violence in her future was inevitable, and he had the knowledge to impart in her the skills that would see her survive it. The next person to attempt to lay a finger on Estela would learn the hard way; the Montoyas would not be made victims.

With Estela placated by a piece of candy, Nicolas mopped up the blood from her face and hands, and gently bandaged her arm. He was not a squeamish man, but the sight of bone protruding through the bloodied mess turned his stomach with anguish. Their poor little girl…. He set the arm in a sling, at least keeping it immobilised until it could be fixed.

“Good, good,” he said, standing up. “That will do you for now. Let’s get you to the hospital.”

He offered Estela a hand, but when she staggered back to her feet she was trembling so violently she started to tip over.

“...Oh dear. Come on, then. It looks like I had best carry you.”

“I feel sick, Tio,” Estela murmured.

“I know. But you have been so brave. I’m proud of you, _mija._ ”

Nicolas carefully picked up his wounded little soldier and cradled her in his arms. She had been braver than any eight-year-old child should ever need to be. And he would be damned if he’d ever let her be made so vulnerable again.

“ _I’ve got you, Estelita.”_

_2035_

Liv had been quiet. Using the bathroom, as far as Nicolas was aware, but she’d taken too long.

“Livita? Are you all right, _mija_?” he called to her.

The quiet hung for a moment longer, then came the shaky reply, muffled by the door. “Um, I think so. I, er, I think I got my period. I’m not sure what to do.”

 _Ah. Well, it had to happen at some point._ “Not to worry, Livita. I’ll check the cupboards; I may have some supplies from when you and your mothers have stayed here.”

“And if you don’t?”

“That’s why we invented convenience stores, _amorcita._ And toilet paper in the meantime.” Nicolas approached the door, concerned. Poor kid sounded frightened. Surely, she’d have been taught all about this already, but it was one thing to know the theory and quite another entirely to be faced with the reality. “Try not to stress; you are safe, and this is nothing we can’t handle.”

“Okay… okay.”

To Nicolas’ relief, and no doubt Liv’s too, there were indeed some spare supplies left in the bathroom cupboard. She opened the door a smidge and took a pad, and Nicolas gave her space to sort herself out.

Liv emerged a few minutes later, looking downright miserable.

“You are _so_ lucky you don’t have a uterus. This is gross.” _Even if you did,_ she thought to herself, _you’d have already had the menopause. Some people have all the luck._

“So I hear. I have no consolation to give you, I’m afraid, but I do have a few _cocadas_ going spare. Will that be of some help, _mija?”_

Liv sat down on the sofa with a wince, clearly unsure how to arrange her legs for minimal discomfort. “ _Cocadas_ always help,” she said glumly. “Thanks.”

As Nicolas put together a heaped plate, Liv’s voice carried over from the front room.

“I was at my friend, Izzy’s place when she first got her period. It was weird; her mom got all gushy like it was some great thing. She kept saying, ‘Oh, Izzy, you’re a grown-up woman now,’. I… I don’t want people to see me like that.”

“Okay, Livi,” Nicolas said as he returned with a plate of _cocadas._ “To put you at ease; you, my little _rayo de sol_ , are a twelve-year-old girl. A child. ‘Grown-up woman’? Bullshit, plain and simple. Anyone who says otherwise is deranged.”

Liv quirked a smile. Nicolas wasn’t _meant_ to swear in front of her. Another dollar for the jar.

“It’s… kinda scary.”

“I know. Growing up is. But it’s made up of many, many small steps like this one. You don’t have to make some great leap all at once, and you need never take those strides alone. It’s important that you remember that.”

“I hope the rest of growing up isn’t as crappy as this…”

Nicolas barked a short laugh and shook his head affectionately. “We can only hope. I think you’ve just got past one of the scariest hurdles. Congratulations. You’re no adult, but you’re a brave kid.”

Lost in thought, Liv tucked into her _cocadas._ The fear lingered; if she was now old enough to make babies, would the world expect her to be on her way to becoming a sexual being? Some of her friends talked and laughed about sex a lot, but Liv just found the concept to be downright daunting. She didn’t get what the fuss was about, and a part of her wished she could just stay a little kid so she didn’t even have to think about such things. Her Tio Abuelo was right, though, she told herself. She was only twelve, and no words of silly adults would change the fact that she had years of being a kid that she should be making the most of. Why did other kids want to grow up so fast anyway?

“Hey… guess what?” she piped up, remembering an exciting piece of news that had slipped her mind amid all the puberty-related fun.

“I’m sure I will never,” Nicolas replied, a sparkle in his eye. Liv seemed to have brightened, and he was glad of it. “But you’ll tell me all the same?”

“Uh, ‘course! I just remembered I forgot to tell you something. You know how every year level has like a student representative, yeah?”

“I didn’t, but it sounds a sensible idea.”

“Well, Reggie got elected! He had to go up and do a speech, and everyone must have liked it, ‘cause he got a load of votes. Obviously, _I_ voted for him… not just because he’s my cousin, but he’s actually pretty smart about a lot of stuff.”

“You’ll have to give him my congratulations. It’s not easy to get up and speak for yourself in front of a crowd.”

“Yeah. I’d never do it. I hate people staring at me. Besides, if I have good ideas, I can just tell Reggie anyway. His whole job is to represent us so we don’t have to.”

“You’re happy, yes? At this school?”

Liv nodded. “It’s pretty good there. I’ve actually got friends, so that’s nice. Back in America, I was always the brave one, ‘cause my best friend Maia was _super_ shy. Now I feel like I’m the shy one. Part of me is scared no one will like me… like before. And another part of me is like… other kids have so much drama. I don’t want drama. I just want to have fun.”

“Ah, yes,” Nicolas chuckled. “You would be at an age where kids can have a lot of cliquey bullcrap. The joys of adolescence. It sounds like you’re wise; appreciate the true friends you have, and let the dramas over small things wash over your back.”

“I’m never gonna be one of the popular girls, but at least I can be happy, right?”

“ _Justo._ So many people lose a great deal of themselves for the sake of being liked. But in the end, that person receiving that approval won’t truly be ‘them’. Be you, and be happy, and all those whose opinions matter will love you as you are. Like we do, _mija.”_

“Mama ‘Stel’s right; you’re going soft.”

“That _perra_ is saying _what_ about me? We’ll see who’s going soft when I’m done with her….”

Liv burst out laughing. Should anyone else say a word against her Mama Estela, they’d be soon sporting a black-eye for their troubles. But her Tio Abuelo loved Estela, and that was _how_ he loved her.

_2012_

Dosed up in painkillers to the nines, Estela had fallen asleep easily. Nicolas knew with certainty that he would not. He pulled up a chair by her bedside. He’d keep vigil; see her through the night.

The sight of that horrendous wound haunted Nicolas every time he closed his eyes… his niece’s face drenched in blood. He had no doubt about it; she’d be scarred for life. Which wouldn’t be long if she continued careening down this path of self-destruction. The knife had sliced deep into her cheek, narrowly grazing her eye and cutting through her brow. There had been a horrifying moment when he’d feared her blinded. But she’d looked right back at him, still defiant, as if she hadn’t almost been the undoing of all he held dear. He watched over Estela as she slept, bruised and bloodstained beneath her bandages, and seethed. She was a child. A _stupid_ child. And it was some miracle that his utter foolishness, the trust he’d placed in her, hadn’t resulted in loss of life or any more serious blow to the campaign. So much at stake, and he’d gambled it on an emotionally distraught little girl, and risked the price of her grief being the lives of good men and women. More, he’d gambled with the very thing he’d fought so hard to protect. And he’d lost.

Nicolas wept.

Olivia would be turning in her grave if she could see her Estelita now. Her Estelita was _gone._ This battered, bloodied girl didn’t even look like Olivia’s treasured daughter, and she likely never would again. What was left behind… Nicolas didn’t know. He’d _raged_ at her, not knowing if even a word was getting through. That child had once hung on his every word, looking up at him as if he were some kind of hero. Perhaps someday he’d be worth of that, but not today. Even as he cried, he would not consider taking back the harsh words hurled in anger. Estela would bulldoze over anyone who stood in her way if given the chance, and now Nicolas had in front of him exactly what came of his letting her walk over him. His pity wouldn’t save whatever was left of his niece. This would not, _could not_ happen ever again.

“I’m sorry, Olivia. _Tu querida niña. Lo siento mucho._ ”

Estela’s fingers twitched, then her face, wordless mutterings passing her sleeping lips. Nightmares had to be inevitable after that disastrous and bloody siege… as if that girl wasn’t haunted enough by what her mother’s last moments might have been. Of course, Estela said nothing. She was staunch and silent, bottling up her pain even while something behind her eyes was screaming. How had he, her uncle, not seen? How had he not realised that she’d been a ticking time bomb? Laser-focused as she was on this vision she had of getting justice for her mother, Estela gave an impression of being in control. But behind the facade, she was crumbling, and in his own grief-- the agony, the _fear_ \-- Nicolas had let her fall.

Shakily, Nicolas placed a hand on Estela’s, and entwined his fingers with hers. _My poor,_ stupid _little star._ _I’m sorry._

“Oh, _mija_ ,” he whispered, through his tears. “What are we going to do? _Q_ _ue diablos vamos a hacer_?”

_2019_

“ _Hola,_ Tio!”

“You again?” Nicolas barked into his phone. “You know, I think I preferred it when you’d disappeared.”

A smile crept to his face as he caught the laugh he’d earned… the laugh he’d missed for so long. More than anything… he’d missed that laugh.

“So, it looks like everything’s going ahead. The pilot who to brought us to the island lost his plane--”

“How much of a _cabr_ _ó_ _n_ does one have to be to _lose_ a _plane_?”

“In _cabr_ _ó_ _n_ ’s defence, in this instance it was blown up by Rourke’s psychotic pet. We’ll let him off the hook for that one, but he’s definitely a dumbass. Anyway-- what I was saying, is that we’ve organised a charter flight to come and get us tomorrow. It’ll take us straight to San Trobida City… should get in around two in the afternoon.”

 _Tomorrow._ After the best part of two years, two agonising years, he’d have her home once more. It was almost impossible to imagine his home not be the solitary retreat it had become. Could Estela even begin to know how much he’d missed her?

When the news came that the ‘Hartfeld Ten’ had vanished off the face of the earth, Nicolas hit his rock bottom. He had known from the moment Estela had boarded the plane to the States that he’d likely never see her again, but to have it confirmed brought him to his knees. The war had been won and his part been played… and what was left for him, some days he couldn’t see. All was bleak, bleak and empty. Every person he’d truly loved, all his family… dead and gone. There had been times…. The thought of suicide had planted its seed in his mind, a nagging temptation that lingered there as the months dragged on with no news, with no signs of life where La Huerta had once been. All that remained was a scratchy, _impossible_ , message left on his phone; an old, familiar voice. At some point, Estela had reached the end of her mission and found the strength to walk away. It was that slither of hope that forced him onto his feet each day. No matter how small the chance was, if it remained possible that his niece was out there, he’d be there waiting for her to come home to.

“I’d say I will have your room ready, but it hasn’t been touched. Or, if you prefer, you and your _esposa_ can have your mother’s old room. You may be cramped in that single bed….”

“--No,” Estela answered, too quickly. “No, it’s all right. My room is fine.”

 _Okay, still not there,_ Nicolas had established in an instant. Grief was a tricky, terrible thing. Just because Estela was so much better than when he’d seen her last, didn’t mean that she’d finished her healing. He’d support her. Better than he had before. So many times he’d failed her… but no more.

“We’ll make it work,” he said, understanding enough to know when not to push.

“There was something I wanted to put to you as well….”

“ _Por el amor de Dios!_ Who do you want me to help you kill now? I’m too old for this.”

“Haha. You are hilarious, Tio.”

“It has been said, yes.”

Estela scoffed. “By who?”

“Ah, details, details. What is it that you want from your poor, old, hilarious _tio?”_

“Actually… it’s the _cabr_ _ó_ _n_ of a pilot. He can’t go home. It’s a long story, but the short version is that he’s on the run after being stitched up by his commanding officer in the navy. We’re pretty sure we’ll have enough evidence to clear his name, but in the meantime… he’s alone.”

“You want to bring him home with you?”

“I do. I know it’s a lot to ask--”

“It’s no question at all.”

“Wait-- you never even let me bring home a _dog_!”

“Who would have been left looking after the damn thing when you went running off seeking revenge? Any person you trust is welcome here.” Nicolas knew very well that letting people in was not Estela’s strongest point. It was for good reason, and so often he’d been glad of it, but the fact that she’d taken her walls down to someone spoke a great deal of their character.

On the other end of the phone, Estela’s voice cracked. “I miss you, Tio.”

“I know. I know. And I, you.” Nicolas sighed wistfully. The worst was over; soon they could catch up on the time spent apart… they could move on to something better. “You know, I cannot wait to meet your Taylor! She must be some force of nature have tamed you….”

“Haha, yeah, something like that. She’s excited to meet you too-- a _little_ nervous-- but excited. Actually, I’m a little nervous. Maybe even more than Taylor is. There’s so much I can’t tell you over the phone. And some of it… some of it is going to hurt like hell.”

Of course. She’d gone out there to avenge her mother’s death; how could there not be pain?

“ _Mija_. You can take all the time you need. Just come home to me safe.”

Estela sniffed. “Yeah. I will.” Her breath rattled audibly. “So, I really should go now. We’re throwing this big party tonight to say goodbye to the island. I should help prepare; when these people throw a big party, they throw a _big_ party.”

“Well, you three had better get it all out your systems before you come here. I’m an old man, you know, I need my sleep!”

A spluttering giggle cut through Estela’s tears. “Don’t worry about that; Taylor and I are going to be _wrecked._ I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? And I’ll let you know if anything changes.”

“See you then, _amorcita.”_

“Bye….”

“...And Estelita--,”

“Yeah?”

“ _Te amo._ ”

“ _Te amo,_ Tio.”

_2035_

“Knock, knock!”

Liv rolled her eyes. “ _Mom_ , the door is literally right in front of you. You can _actually_ knock on it.” _Weirdo._

“Your Mama Taylor is a silly creature,” Nicolas observed, a twinkle in his eye. He’d come to care deeply for Estela’s wife, loving her as a second niece. That she’d brought out a playful side to Estela he’d thought long dead, he would be forever be grateful. He unlocked the door, and greeted Liv’s mothers, beaming. “I should bait you with your daughter more often.”

Estela went straight for the hug, as she did every single time. You don’t spend a year in a world in which your uncle is dead and _not_ throw your arms around him at every given opportunity. “Tio, if we spent any more time over here, we might as well move back in.”

“Well, that wouldn’t do. I didn’t endure one pain-in-the-ass teenager only to wind up with another one.”

“Ha. Thought so.”

Taylor made her way over to the couch and put her arms around Liv, who hadn’t moved. “Hey gorgeous! I take it you found the bus all right?”

“Mmhmm. No problem.” Liv nuzzled in close, suddenly needy. “I got my period,” she mumbled.

“Oh, Livi! How are you feeling? Was that at school?”

“No, when I got here. Luckily. Tio Nicolas gave me _cocadas_. And I feel…,”Liv pulled a face. “Ugh. A little bit tummy-achey… and a lot gross.”

Taylor stroked her girl’s cheek. “Sorry, hun. It sucks.”

“We can drive by and get you an ice cream on the way home,” Estela said kindly. “You know how we always do that a couple of times a month?”

“ _Oh!_ ” Liv exclaimed. Maybe there were upsides to this growing up business after all. “So you just like… get one every time to make yourself feel less crappy?”

“Yup. Works like a charm.” Estela ruffled Liv’s hair and left a kiss in her wake. “Just… let us know how you’re feeling, okay? If the pain gets really bad, or you feeling worried, you know?”

Taylor nodded. “This stuff can be a little scary at first. But it’s something that’s normal; it’s okay to talk about it, yeah?”

“Yeah, I know. So far, talking about it’s got me _cocadas and_ an ice cream, so I don’t think you’ve got to worry about me suffering in silence.”

Nicolas laughed. “Smart girl.”

From his kitchen, Nicolas took Estela aside, leaving Liv animatedly filling Taylor in on her plans for her endangered species project and the camping trip they’d been talking about.

“Hey. Everything okay?”

“I noticed earlier… Livi seemed very troubled. I think it’s more than just the onset of her period. She looked like someone with much on her mind.”

Estela frowned. “Thanks. We’ll keep an eye out.”

“Of course.” Nicolas put a hand on her arm. “You take such good care of her.” For a few moments, he studied his niece’s face as she quietly contemplated. She looked as if she was lost somewhere, far away. “And you? A penny for yours?”

Estela flushed a little, and shook her head. “It’s nothi--,” It wasn’t nothing. “New Year’s soon. It’ll be twenty-three years,” she said solemnly. When she looked into Nicolas’ eyes, she saw a reflection of her own lingering heartbreak. Time had done all the healing it ever could, what was left, they carried together. She winced as she spoke. “ _Twenty-_ _three_ … almost a quarter of a century; she’s been gone all that time. I don’t even know how to get my head around that. And in less than a year, I’ll be the same age Mom was; how is _that_ possible?”

“Time waits for no one. It just marches on, with no thought to those left behind along the way.” Nicolas gave a sad chuckle. “Soon I’ll have known you for longer than I knew her alive… so, yes, I understand how it can boggle the mind. My star.”

“I guess you and me are in it for the long haul. Keeping on surviving.”

“You’re more than surviving, _mija._ We both are.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.”

Estela returned to Taylor and Liv, putting her arms around them and leaving kisses upon the top of Liv’s head. “So, are you ready for one really large ice cream, Livita?”

Everything Nicolas had endured, it was for this. He couldn’t hold back a sentimental smile as he watched his family; in their return to San Trobida, they’d brought about a shining future he at times would not have believed possible. But he would never, never forget what it had taken to get to this, the battles they’d faced, and the times he’d shared with the niece Olivia had placed into his arms and into his care. That little baby had blossomed into something truly remarkable, and yet it could have been yesterday.

 _Ah…,”_ he thought with a satisfied sigh, _how the time escapes me._


End file.
